Tegan Frost: A Protégé’s Story
by Airia Black
Summary: Santa Clause Among seasons of giving and trivial emotions lived the protégé of Jack Frost: a girl none the less chilly then her name. This is her story, this is her life and these are her misgivings. God help the elf who has taken her under his wing.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with the Santa Clause trademark as well as Santa Clause 2. Any characters not recognized by these organizations are devices of my own imagination.

AN: Okay, this is a story that has been floating around in my head for quite a while now, although with the new Santa Clause movie coming out this fall, after its release will probably not make a whole lot of sense. **For the record, READ THIS FIRST. My version of Jack Frost has nothing to do with the one portrayed in the movie! I wrote this before I even knew they were doing a movie with Jack Frost in it. Therefore, after it comes out, don't be writing me saying "You're Jack is nothing like the one in the movie." That's because he's not...He's a totally different character on the whole with totally different values ect. **

Tegan on the other hand is a totally made up character who has nothing to do with the upcoming movie, so read on.

**Note:** And for those who are wondering, this will be a Bernard fiction in some sorts, although of which I'm not exactly sure.

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**Tegan Frost: A Protégé's Story**

**Chapter 1- **Sparse Introductions

Tegan Frost was different and always had been. It wasn't her appearance, although as uncanny and pale as she did look, and it wasn't her detached and sheltered personality. It was her gift to create the snows of winter that set her apart from everyone else around her. But winter wasn't always there and when it did come, it signified one of the largest holidays across the globe. Tegan on the other hand did not enjoy this holiday and so therefore did not understand the need of winter.

At one point in time, Tegan Frost loved Christmas. She loved the toys, she loved the family time spent together and she loved the spirit of giving. Every Christmas morning she would awake and rush downstairs to the living room and like every other year stare in awe at the tree and wonder who or what had done such a wonderful thing.

On top of that, every year her Uncle Jack would travel from far away and a place she couldn't name mostly because her parents never told her. He would spend a week with them and for that one week of the year she was the happiest in her life.

But one Christmas morning she woke up and her life would never be the same. She rushed downstairs and with her Mom, Dad and Uncle Jack, they opened their presents. Finally, only one was left and she knew exactly who it was from. Her Uncle always had a way of hiding his gift to her till the very last; it had been the same way since she was 4. But this year and this gift felt special and she knew this one, this one present from her Uncle would be his most profound gift ever. And she was right.

Inside the brown paper parcel wrapped up in string was a crystalline figure of a snowflake made of seemingly impossible and unmeltable ice. The day was clear, just like the ice in her hands and no clouds loomed over head. But in that one moment, the moment where she opened the gift and saw this beautifully bestowed work of art that her Uncle had so carefully given, snow began to fall. Happiness grew in her eyes and soon the window behind her was full of flakes that fell from the heavens. And when her Uncle saw this, he smiled. Her parents simply gasped in awe, and even though Tegan had no idea that she was causing such a miracle, somehow in that tiny moment she felt unreal.

It was in that moment that the spirit of giving was passed on through her parents and to her Uncle because little did she know at the time that he indeed was Jack Frost, Father of Winter. Her parents gave Tegan to her Uncle and with that grew confusion and embitterment for no longer did she understand that happiness and spirit of Christmas. Tears fell from her eyes, but the only froze as they touched her cheek. Her Uncle simply proceeded to dust them away.

It had always been a possibility, her Uncle had told her parents; a possibility that that child would possess the gift of winter. And even though she loved her Uncle dearly, she couldn't understand how easily he could accept this gift of a child her parents had given him. They had given her to Jack to be trained, so that one day she too could master the art of winter and flourish like he had before her.

But as the years passed by, Tegan's gift grew worse and ever since that fatal incident, could she not produce a snow fall. She couldn't bring herself to create the insignia of a happy Christmas because she herself now knew none. And when she found out of her lasting longevity, her heart sank deeper.

Ice, yes. Frost, of course. She could even create slush and trembling winds, but no snow came from her finger tips. But as the years went on and Christmas after Christmas passed, no longer did her Uncle hope for her, but grew frustrated and with the years of failure, her Uncle grew cold and distant and both came to embody the cold-hearted figures only read about in fairy-tales.

Her Uncle, her poor and endeavored Uncle grew cold and bitter to the point of hatred and one day while helping him remove his coat, their fingers by chance touched and she realized they were covered in a thin layer of frost. His eyes, once a warm grey had receded into an icy blue and his lips were tinged with purple. His hair, like hers, was now composed of frost and ice, its chestnut brown a faded thing of the past. A once handsome man full of love and caring was now nothing but the cold-hearted bastard she had never dreamed possible to exist.

"Such a pair we make, my dear Uncle" she said one morning as they stood in a uncanny meeting a front a mirror. He eyed his niece and saw she was no longer the adoring blonde headed, blue eyed 10 year old he had taken as child. Instead she was a spitting imagine of himself: icy skinned, brittle haired, frost covered lipped, complete with her own pair of cold, deceptive blue eyes witch of winter. This was not what he had planned.

"A pair indeed" he said with a little more then a touch of malice. "But none the less we were once something more."

She nodded in agreement.

And at that moment, Jack decided Tegan needed help. And that was why Jack Frost, father of all things cold and bitter enlisted in the help of Santa Claus; a man he had grown to hate for turning his niece into such a monster. Why is it that she, a child who deserves nothing less then happiness had been bestowed with such immense dislike for her own calling and all at the hands of the image of a perfect Christmas? He knew no reason then the big man himself.

She was to live at the North Pole in the center of all things good to learn and to experience the true meaning of Christmas. And if this failed, then Jack knew of nothing he could do. He only hoped the Clause's could help her realize what Christmas really meant and with that could come the snows that followed.

And so began the saga of Tegan Frost, one that was meant for greatness but had somehow tripped at the starting line and with the hopes of humanity could still rectify a daunting second place in the running.

Let her story begin.

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**AN:** An interesting piece I put together in my spare time...coincidently the 3rd Santa Clause Movie which is due out this fall also involves a Jack Frost, but this story has nothing to do with him. From what I hear his character is a little more humoristic then my version of Jack, so just to rectify that...Read and Review and I'm over and out-ox 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with the Santa Clause trademark as well as Santa Clause 2. Any characters not recognized by these organizations are devices of my own imagination.

**AN: **Well with Christmas coming up in such a short period of time, I thought I'd be nice and update this fiction since I haven't worked on it in forever (along with everything else I've published). I haven't bothered to go see the new Santa Clause movie, but from what I'm hearing it's not that great. Sooo, for anyone who has seen it tell me what you thought of it so I can decide whether or not to go waste my money or just wait till it comes out on DVD to rent it.

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**Tegan Frost: A Protégé's Story**

**Chapter 2**- A room with a view

The air around her smelled of sweetness and gingerbread, of warm fires and even warmer cups of chocolate so carefully melted and mixed. Slight breezes of carols would hang in the air like delicate ornaments and pass so indifferently like dust in the wind. She could see little children, no, _elves_, wandering outside the frosted windows of the room she would now call home. A Christmas tree stood alone in the corner, surrounded by gifts and stockings hung if by magic across the hearth of the fire. This is where she would be living and if anything she felt no concern to what might have driven her Uncle to such insanity.

Instead, she crept about the room, slowly absorbing the odd surroundings, not daring to touch anything in case it might shatter into a million little pieces and fall to the floor in anger.

As she crept, a warm looking batch of brewed sherry caught her eye, held in a decorative wine decanter made of crystalline and glass. Her fingers traced the engraved edges of one of the two goblets sitting on the mahogany debutant and brought a clouded appearance to the once beautiful crystal. Her fingers instantly drew back. The effect didn't last long; the frost slowly melted away from the licking warmth of the flames from the fire. When the frost receded, she slowly felt the goblet again, this time careful not to freeze the crystal with her touch.

The craftsmanship was quiet beautiful really, 18th century Geishstein and no signs of forgery were present. She carefully placed the goblet down and lifted up the decanter, tracing the line were the liquid drew short. With nimble fingers, she uncorked the crystal stopper and inhaled the rich scent. Her nose deceived her.

She ran her finger around the edge of the decanter and tasted the funny smelling liquid. It was sweet and not at all dry like a proper sherry should taste and had a bitter aroma surrounding it. It was cranberry juice. She should have known. Leave it to the North Pole to replace fine wines with juices and other fond smelling liquids that were only to easy to resist.

Without a second thought, she placed the stopper back on the decanter and placed it back on the mahogany debutant.

With nothing left to do, she sat down on the edge of the large 4 poster canopy bed and neatly folded her hands into her lap. Predictably, she could sense her Uncle nearing her room and talking to the man who had in her Uncle's words "so graciously" allowed her to stay here.

"You'll find her living arrangements quite suitable…quiet nice really" came a voice from outside the door. "I had my head elf on it, making the arrangements and such... Not all rooms around here are as quiet as big as this one being that-, well you know" he said laughing. The voice was deep and jovial and sounded somewhat like her grandfather from when she was a child. Or perhaps it was her fathers voice she remembered…she really didn't know.

"Well I must certainly hope so" came the second voice. This time it was her Uncle. "I've brought her here to learn, not to develop an acute spinal problem." The first voice only proceeded to laugh.

Despite her Uncle's deceiving words, underneath all the spitefulness present in his voice, she knew somewhere deep inside of him, perhaps shielded by his cold heart, 20 years ago he would've found his little comment funny, if least not a tiny bit amusing. But at the same moment she thought about how 20 years ago he would have never made such a comment to begin with. She frowned and gave a small sigh, only to rectify it with her usual indifferent stare, one that told a story of glue and plenty of years of practice.

The door across the room swung open and her Uncle and the man whose voice sounded like something from a distant memory entered. She rose to greet them.

"Tegan" said her Uncle, tracing her movements his eyes. "This is the man who has made this all possible for us, Scott Calvin." His voice softened a little as he finished and he waited for his niece to greet the man in front of her.

She raised her hand to greet the man, the man who she had grown to dislike more and more over the years and held a smile that could deceive any enemy of its true intentions. But the man didn't take her hand and left it hanging in mid-air. Instead his face grew troubled and the more he looked at her the more his eyes grew distained.

"Tegan Grace Frost" he murmured through his beard. "You used to live at 23 Fairmount Drive, didn't you? Your parents bought it when you were 3. A good girl you were, very good…Always left me a present along with milk and cookies by the tree."

Tegan's breath drew short while her hand fell limply to her side. Her eyes met his gaze and in them she could see distant memories of her childhood swirling in limp pools within the blue depths of his eyes. She was mesmerized and couldn't look away.

"You disappeared from my lists when you were about 10, didn't you? I never did know what had happened…one year you were there and the next you weren't. I never forget a child Tegan, even when they grow up, I never forget. And you, you were neither, neither a child, nor an adult. You just weren't there."

"Legendary figures don't appear on lists" she replied faintly. But even as she spoke her gaze was transfixed upon his face, particularly the eyes. He smiled and the images she was so transfixed upon disappeared.

"No, I suppose they don't…You're Uncle never told me you were his niece. I always assumed that you were nothing short of existing, but never from a family like yours." A twinkle grew in his eyes and he smiled. "I hope you can make a million memories here, Tegan, ones that are happier then what you are feeling right now about your past ones." He didn't say anything else but merely turned around and walked from the room, her Uncle in tow.

"Come, Tegan" her Uncle said, stopping at the door and waiting for her to follow.

Tegan on the other hand didn't reply. She didn't speak; she couldn't speak. She couldn't and didn't do anything. She knew that he saw her inner most feelings and with that her despair.

Nobody knew how she felt about Christmas. Nobody until now.

Dumbstruck, she poured herself a glass of cranberry juice and drowned the whole thing.

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**AN:** Okay, so I bet a few of you out there are wondering where Bernard is...(I know I am!) No worries though, he's coming in next chapter, guaranteed. Read and Review and I'm over and out.- 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with the Santa Clause trademark as well as Santa Clause 2. Any characters not recognized by these organizations are devices of my own imagination

AN: Yah! I'm excited. Bernard enters this chapter, and no, Bernard isn't going to be like he was in the 2nd movie. He was whiny, a cry-baby and had a gimpy walk...not at all Bernard like compared to the first one. He was much better there. Well anyways, read on and review.

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**Tegan Frost: A Protégé's Story**

**Chapter 3-** Illusions

Tegan awoke with a start, jolting to the upright position. It was another restless night. As she exhaled, she could see her breath. It was never a good sign. The sheets she was wrapped in were frigid and cold and as she observed her shaking fingers, she noticed a thin layer of frost had formed on the tips. She gathered enough courage to look up from her frosty bed sheets to see the damage done.

The room around her was no longer filled with warmth and ambience, but cold and desolate. The fire had been extinguished, icicles hanging from the hearth, and the stockings as well as the curtains pulled back from the window were stiff. She looked down and the wood flooring was now covered with a thin layer of frost and the mirror across the room was clouded. The walls themselves were no longer rosy shades of red and mahogany, but peeling from the cold, the wallpaper itself flaking from the walls. The worst though was the decanter and goblets which had shattered in her sleep, the glass glued together by the frozen liquid that had spilt when the crystal broke.

"Oh no" she mouthed, propping herself up against the headboard. She sighed and brushed the ice from her arms and fingertips and looked around the room again, but this time had to do a double take. Someone with a beret was now sitting on the end of her bed, cross-legged and smiling at her.

"Who-, what!" she stuttered, gasping as the man's smile grew larger. She looked over at the room again, then back at the man. She was mortified. "I-, I didn't mean too-…I-, it was an accident! It sometimes happens when I'm sleeping. I-, I didn't-, don't have any control over it!"

He said nothing, but kept smiling at her and she grew silent. She leaned back and watched as he hopped off the bed, touching things as he went and shaking his head and 'tsking' as he went. After a moment she realized this "man" wasn't really a man at all, but a human proportion sized elf.

He walked over to the shattered wine decanter which was now frozen in place to the debutant. He touched the chilly glass and shook his head again.

"This was my Grandmothers" he said with a perturbed look on his face.

"I'm sorry" she said quickly, jumping out of the bed, looking at the mutilated glass. He gave a little chuckle and touched the crystal with his fingers, restoring the decanter to its original beauty.

"How-, how-, how did you do that?" she stuttered again.

"Magic" he replied in disbelieve. "For someone who was brought up into the world of the incomprehensible belief, you sure don't act like it."

She gave him a funny look and then reached out and touched his lapel, feeling the material.

"Uh, what are you _doing_?" he asked, looking at her strangely.

"I'm sorry" she replied. "I'm just making sure you're not an illusion. Alot of things in my life have been..." She trailed off then looked at him again. "It's just I normally don't wake up to find a strange man sitting at the end of my bed watching me. Are you sure I'm not dreaming?"

"_Elf_" he said correcting her.

"Elf" she replied, recitfying her mistake.

"And I wasn't watching you" he said. "I was merely waiting for you to wake up." She thought about this for a minute and was about to say something when she realized he wasn't standing in front of her anymore. She looked up and saw he was over by the now crystallized Christmas tree.

"Quite some damage you've done" he said shaking his head, breaking off a fragile branch. "I'm pretty sure not even Curtis has seen something like this before…although he is only 823 years old."

"I'm sorry" she said interrupting him, getting over the initial shock. "But who exactly are you and why are you in my room?" She had managed to regain her composure and shot the stranger a fixed glare.

"Me?" he asked walking over to her. "I'm Bernard. Arch-Elf around here…Santa was the one who commissioned me to have your room built, although if I had known you'd destroy my handy-work in one night, I would have just left Curtis to do it" he said with a slight chuckle.

"I said I was sorry" she replied stiffly.

"I know." he said picking up a fallen coat hanger and looking out the frosted window. She stared at him suspiciously and watched.

"And I don't appreciate those looks you keep giving me either" he said, turning around and heading towards the hearth. She was taken back and watched as he kept talking to her as he went.

"Don't play innocent. I know all about you Tegan Grace Frost" he said enunciating her name. He snapped his fingers and the fire sprung to life.

"You're 18, although in human age you'd wager to be around 34. You hate the fact that you age at 1/3 of what you used too and live to be twice as long. When you found out about this you tried to freeze yourself into a coma but soon found out you were immune to the cold."

"Fine" she said giving him that. "But that is something you easily could've got from my Uncle" she said suspiciously. "Are you sure I'm not dreaming. Elves aren't suppose to be this big…"

"No, you're not. Now please, let me continue. Now here are some things that only you could know…and maybe the big man himself. You hate chocolate ice cream, used to love the color green, when you were nine you fell from your bike and scraped your knee and vowed never to touch it again. A week later you were back and riding on it like nothing had ever happened" he said continuing to list off events from her childhood, counting each item off his fingers."You once had a crush on a boy named Jem, although when you tried to kiss him he ran away crying. When you were 7 you wanted a cat and so you took home a stray only to have your parents take him to the pound. You also had a pet spider named Jeeves." He picked up a torn white dress, sitting in a trunk on the floor, one that was too small for even a little girl to wear and looked at her. "Shall I say more?" he said, observing the dress.

"Ok, ok, I get it!" she said motioning for him to stop. "Hey!" she shouted when she noticed he was rummaging through her trunk. "Get out of my stuff!"

"I'm just trying to break the ice, no pun intended" he said handing over the dress he had pulled from her trunk.

"What do you mean? she asked, folding up the dress and placing it in a drawer.

"I mean since I've been put in charge of figuring out why you hate Christmas" he said with a smile, acting as if it was so obvious.

She eyed him auspiciously. "You already know everything else about me, why don't you know why I hate Christmas?" she asked.

"Because" he replied. "Somethings not even Santa Clause can figure out. He might have seen your memories but he certainly doesn't know what caused them."

"I hate Christmas because it took my family away" she said bluntly.

"We know that" Bernard replied looking at her funnily. "But do we know _why_?"

For some reason, Bernard's words puzzled her. Why _had _Christmas taken her family away from her? She didn't have time to speak because Bernard had already begun to talk again.

"And I hear because of it you can't do the one thing you're meant to do" he said snapping his fingers and fixing the walls.

"And what's that?" she asked him.

"Become the next Jack Frost."

She grew silent and the room went cold.

"I've had enough of this conversation" she suddenly said. "I'd like some privacy, if that's alright." Bernard nodded his head and did one last snap of the fingers and repaired the damaged drapery.

"I'm sorry if this isn't how you imagined your first day at the North Pole" he suddenly said. "But I promise you tomorrow will be better." She nodded and returned to the bed, sitting down and folded her hands neatly into her lap. Bernard knew he wasn't going to get anything else from her, despite the once feverish conversation he had gotten her involved in.

He left the room and once he was gone, Tegan began to cry, her tears freezing on her cheeks.

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"She's impossible" Bernard said, walking in circles around the large office. "I was in there a whole 25 minutes and I barely got her to say 12 sentences and half of them were her stuttering. And by the time I was done, I'm pretty sure I had gotten farther from where I had started because she was exactly as you described when you first met her; detached and with a far off look in her eyes."

"Patience, Bernard" Scott said looking at the photo Jack had left with him.

"I know" said Bernard with a small glint in his eye. "But she's just like you when you first became Santa; full of disbelieve and ignorance. She doesn't seem to believe a word I'm saying and if anything thinks I'm a figment of her imagination."

"Bernard" said Scott putting down the photo and pushing it over to him. "I have full faith in you. I mean after all, look at what a great job you did with me, and I'm the best damn Santa this North Pole as ever seen! I'm confident you'll be able help her."

"I hope so" he said picking up the photo. "Or these last few months building her room would have been a waste…you should have seen what had happened to it this morning. Ice everywhere. I guess she frosted the place in her sleep."

"Funny" Scott said with a chuckle, watching as Bernard observed the photo. "Jack didn't say anything about that."

"Well I wouldn't trust that Jack if I were you" Bernard said. "I'm surprised Tegan isn't as bad as he is…He nearly scared half the elves into early retirement when he arrived and destroyed the spare reindeer housing with that blizzard he conjured up."

"A simple accident" Scott replied.

"Mhmm" Bernard replied sceptically. "By the way, is this really her?" he said tracing the girl in the photo with his finger.

"Yes, that's her…20 years ago. She hasn't changed much, besides growing a few inches."

"But she looks so happy" Bernard replied, placing the photo down.

"She was" replied Scott.

"What happened?"

"She was given the gift of winter…ironic isn't it?"

"What's ironic, Santa?" Bernard asked.

"That her gift is the one thing destroying her. It's like you hating yourself because you're an elf or me because I'm Santa Clause. To anyone else, it seems like nothing, but if you truly understood it, you'd realize that Tegan wishes she had never been bestowed with this gift because she then would've have been able to enjoy her childhood with her family. She was given to her Uncle as a gift when she was 10 and thus the meaning of giving has been distorted in her eyes. I want you to fix that Bernard, even if it takes a whole lifetime, I want Tegan to realize how giving isn't what she thinks it is. Can you do that for me?"

Bernard nodded and Scott smiled.

"I knew there was a reason why I made you my Arch-Elf." Santa got up and rung a bell hanging from a wall.

"Yes, Santa?" asked a young elf walking into the room.

"Judy, I was wondering if you could get Bernard here a cup of hot coco, extra chocolate. Bernard has a difficult task ahead of him and needs all the strength he can get."

"Yes, Santa" Judy replied with a twinkle in her eyes. "I'll get Bernard that cup of coco i_mmediately_." It seemed the whole North Pole was a flutter with the gossip about Bernards new task and even Judy had heard about it. "Come Bernard" Judy said taking the older elves hand. "I'll take you there right now." Bernard obligued and went with the younger elf.

Once he was gone, Scott sat down at his desk and picked up the photo of Tegan sighed.

"God help you Bernard, because it will take a miracle for the elf who has taken her under his wing."

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AN: I love Judy. I really wish they had put her in the second film...well anyways, thats it for all. Read and Review and I'm over and out -ox 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with the Santa Clause trademark as well as Santa Clause 2. Any characters not recognized by these organizations are devices of my own imagination.

AN: Sorry it took so long for the this update...I had alot of studying and exams to to be done before the Christmas break. Well anyways, read on, enjoy and review.

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**Tegan Frost: A Protégé's Story**

**Chapter 4- **Happiness

Once again, Tegan awoke to find the same black haired, beret wearing elf sitting crossed legged on the foot of her bed. He had a peculiar look in his eyes and smile plastered to his face.

"Do you ever sleep?" she asked glaring at him.

"Rarely" he replied. He hopped off the foot of her bed and sat himself next to her. "Now get up" he said pulling back the covers. "We have a lot planned for today and very little time to get it done."

"_We?_" she asked standing up.

"Yes silly, _we_. Now come on… first stop, breakfast!"

"But I'm not even dressed" she replied in bewilderment. She took a step back from him in an attempt to relief herself from his insane notions. Nobody she knew was as straight forward or perhaps exuberant as his him…no; exuberant wouldn't be the right word. Animated perhaps? Or maybe just plain insane...She couldn't understand him at all. I mean really, why was he going through all these fruitful attempts only to waste his time on her behalf? She eyed him carefully and remembered what her Uncle had told her before he left.

"_Never trust an elf. They are mischievous little creatures who love causing havoc and chaos." _

Well Bernard really wasn't all that mischievous, a little apprehensive and fidgety at sometimes….and he certainly wasn't little, he was taller then her for goodness sake! Perhaps her Uncle was wrong and it was just Bernard's first introduction that had given her the impression that he was not to be trusted.

"Are you done contemplating your options?" he suddenly asked her. "Because if you're wondering, you really have none. Santa put me in charge of you and your happiness and I say you're coming with me."

"My _happiness_?"

"Yes, your happiness. And today Tegan that is what I promise you; a glimpse of happiness, one so obvious that even you can see the joy in it. Now please, can we go?" he asked with a hint of impatience in his voice.

"If your keen eye hasn't already noticed Bernard" she said with a sudden sense of formality. "I am not dressed. I have barely been up for 15 minutes and have once again have been awoken by your startling presence. I came here to learn, not to be harassed by an elf in my nightgown."

Bernard only proceeded to smile and she noticed a small twinkle appear in his chocolaty brown eyes. Tegan felt a small tingling sensation wash over her and as she looked down, noticed she was fully robed, footwear and all and ready to go.

"How-, how-…?" she stuttered. Once again he had left her at a loss for words.

"You're dressed," he said cocking his head, the smile still present on his face. "Now that that's out of the way, is there anything else you'd like to deviate with me or can we go down to the kitchens?"

Tegan merely nodded and poignantly followed, too stunned to argue anything else.

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"Eat it" Bernard demanded. In front of Tegan he held out a plate of cookies, freshly baked. 

"I'd rather not" she replied. She turned her head and observed the head kitchen of the North Pole. Tiny elves rushed everywhere amongst the sweet smell of candy whilst sugar and icing powder seemed to drift through the air. Copper pots and pans hung neatly from every wall and the occasional shuffling and clanking of tin cookie trays accented the surrounding area with its uneven melodies.

"If you're going to learn the true meaning of Christmas" Bernard said interrupting the silence. "You're first going to have to start enjoying Christmas foods."

"Don't you have anything refined around here for breakfast, like pouched salmon eggs and toast?"

Bernard sighed and placed his hand on his forehead, shielding his eyes. She was impractical, literally impossible to communicate with and over all showed no emotion towards anything. He looked up again and saw she was tracing snow particles with her eyes that fell gracefully outside the window.

"Please" he said literally begging her. "Just try one."

She turned her head and focused on him again.

"Fine" she said picking up a cookie. He watched as she took a bite of the cookie, slowly chewing and swallowing it. He sighed. Although she was eating it, he could tell she wasn't actually noticing it. Once again her eyes were looking elsewhere, drifting and pooled in mystery as if caught in a lost memory from long ago.

She lifted the cookie up for another bite, but Bernard reached out and stopped her.

"_Tegan_" he said stressing her name. "You're missing the point." She tilted her head in confusion.

"Look" he said taking her hand and showing her the cookie. "What shape is this cookie?"

"It's in the shape of a Christmas tree" she replied.

"Now feel it" he said taking her fingers and running them across the warm surface and icing. As her fingers ran across the cookie, Tegan's eyes grew perplexed.

"I don't understand" she said as Bernard lifted her fingers from the cookie.

"Shhhh" he said quieting her. "Now think about this cookie. Think about how much time and effort it must have taken to mix and bake this cookie and then to decorate it. Think about how much love went into making this. Now Tegan, when you eat the cookie this time, I don't want you thinking about the cookie itself, I want you to think about the love that went into making this cookie."

"Bernard-" she said, still holding the cookie.

"Shhhsh" he said taking her hands and raising them to her mouth. "Now eat."

Tegan took another bite of the cookie. She took her time chewing the warm baked mixture, feeling the texture with her tongue and this time being careful not to ignore the sensual and rich flavour.

She looked over at Bernard who nodded for her to take another bite. She did and began to chew. Tiny memories flooded through her as she ate it, bringing her back to a familiar Christmas, one that she hadn't thought about vividly in quite some time.

"Now tell me" said Bernard, watching her with hopeful eyes. "What does the cookie taste like, what does it remind you of?"

"It reminds me of an old Christmas memory" she replied quietly, more to herself then to Bernard. Suppressed memories fought there way to the surface and Tegan's hand dropped to her side, her hands gently fondling the dessert in her fingers.

"It reminds me of my mother" she said looking fondly at the half-eaten cookie.

"What else does it remind you of?" Bernard asked her patiently.

"My father" she replied. Her eyes began to cloud over as the memory became clearer.

"It-, it reminds me of the morning where my mother made cookies and we shared them around the tree after opening our presents. My father had always said she made the best ones in our whole neighbourhood…Then, shortly after that, they gave me to my Uncle to be taken away and trained" she said her eyes turning a violent shade of blue. She raised her hand and looked at the half-eaten pastry and crumbled it in her hand.

"I _hate_ this memory" she said looking with angry eyes at Bernard. She dropped the crumbling cookie from her hand and as it fell to the floor, the pieces became devoured in ice.

"Can I please just have some toast?" she suddenly asked Bernard as the ice particles shattered when they hit the floor.

Bernard's hopeful eyes faded and a disappointed look grew on his face.

"Arabella?" he said over his shoulder to an elf washing dishes. "Will you please get Tegan some toast, lightly buttered, and bring it to her?" Arabella nodded and walked off.

Bernard looked at Tegan whose facial expressions were now clouded and detached. A slight pull was felt from the fabric of his sash. He sighed and took the plate of toast the younger elf was holding out to him.

"Thank you, Arabella" he said and patted her head. He handed the toast to Tegan and watched as she took a forced bite. She swallowed and looked back up at Bernard.

"Come on" he said, still hopeful. "I have a surprise for you."

Tegan nodded and placed the unfinished toast down.

"What is it?" she asked. Bernard stopped himself in his tracks and gave her strange look.

"If I told you it wouldn't be a surprise now would it? Now come on or we'll be late."

Tegan's brow grew troubled and then she looked at him with in the most inquisitive manner. It was the least to say Bernard had intrigued her and for once in the last 18 years of her life, she felt curious again. That was something she had not actually permitted herself to be ever since she was a child. She wondered if Bernard was doing this on purpose.

Finally, feeling a little curious and at the same time, a little nauseated, Tegan followed. Although as impassive as she seemed, she was still only human.

* * *

Bernard had led Tegan out into the cold, past the workshops and through the stone archway that led to the elf village. It was the first time she had actually been outside since she had arrived at the North Pole and she had forgotten how much she missed the cold. 

She stopped temporarily and looked up into the sky. It was white, covered in the clouds and not a single snowflake fell. She tilted her head, her blonde, almost white hair billowing in the wind and looked awry at the blank sky. A concentrated look appeared on her face and she slowly raised her hand, as if she was trying to reach out and touch a cloud. Her face became more askew and her eyelids closed in concentration. She waited a moment before opening her eyes and a look of disappointment overtook her.

"Are you coming, or not?" She turned her head slightly to see Bernard standing next to her. She could see in his eyes, although how much he tried to hide it, that he knew what she had been trying to do.

"Yeah," she said turning to face him. "I was just-" She stopped as Bernard's solemn eye's told her she didn't need to continue.

"Come on," he said waving for her to follow. He rushed off at a quick pace that caught Tegan by surprise.

"Where are we going?" she called after him.

"You'll see!" he called back. She quickened her pace and caught up with him.

"Why are you going so fast!" she panted. That's when she realized he had disappeared and she was left alone in the center of the town's square.

"Bernard!" she called, spinning around. "Where are yo-…" She spun around and was left speechless. A sleigh made out of dark cherry wood with all its magnificent elegance, accented with gold trim and a slight hue of red sat silently on the snowy cobblestone. A slight ringing of bells and grunts trickled from the sleigh and the 8 reindeer standing restlessly affront.

She exhaled at the sight and turned around to find Bernard watching her with intent eyes.

"Bernard," she said startled by his sudden presence. "Where-, how…I don't understand."

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he said noticing the gleam in her eyes.

"I suppose, but I still don't understand why you've brought me here…"

"I told you I hade a surprise for you, didn't I?"

"Yes," she said slowly.

"Well this is it, Tegan. Today you and I are going to be taking a ride in Santa's sleigh." Bernard held out his hand as if to help Tegan into the sleigh and waited.

For a moment Tegan was silent and said little of anything. Bernard watched as her eyes grew a dull grey and her expression became blank and almost impossible to read.

"Are we going to fly?" she caustiously asked.

"Only if you want to."

"Ok" she finally said, taking hand. "I'll go, but only if we can see the snow."

"Okay, the snow it is…and don't worry" he said seeing the doubt in her eye. "I'm not trying to trick you." She shot Bernard a quick glance and sat down next to him on the dark velvet cushioning.

"And don't give me those looks," Bernard said taking the reigns. Her eyes darkened and a chilly breeze struck them.

"I said-" Bernard said turning and grabbing her hand. "-Don't give me those looks." He let go of her hand and in return found a small snow globe sitting in its place. A look of curiosity broke across her face as she watched him expertly tighten the reigns around his hands.

"Besides," he said turning and giving her a short-lived smile. "I'd bet you'd look much prettier then you already are if you'd smile."

Tegan's face softened a little and with a small motion of Bernard's hands the sleigh moved forward with a small jolt and they were off.

* * *

A whirlwind of emotions struck Tegan as Bernard helped her out from the sleigh. She had to admit, despite much to Bernard's pleasurable knowledge; the sleigh ride had been fun. The word felt funny on her tongue, it was one she hadn't used in years. 

"Well?" asked Bernard, standing with his arm's folded across his sash.

"It was…nice" she finally said. "But more or less, I didn't realize how beautiful the artic was." Bernard's smile grew and a flash of excitement flew through his eyes.

"Come on," he said beckoning her to follow. "I have one last thing to show you."

And despite herself, Tegan willingly followed, already wondering what else Bernard had in store for her.

* * *

Bernard had led Tegan to the main workshop of the town and more importantly to what Tegan could only interrupt as curiosity. She looked at Bernard and waited for an answer. 

"Remember my promise?" he asked her. She nodded. "Well, they, happiness, wanted to greet you." he said holding back a smile. He nodded his slightly at the sight in front of her and she heard a slight burst of cheering.

She looked at the elf standing beside her, the one who had promised her happiness and wondered if this really was the beginning of it. She heard and saw what happiness was suppose to be and look like; it was rushing up the marble staircase, screaming and cheering with full fledged giggles and harks of laughter that hung like musical notes in her ears.

Happiness threw themselves onto her and clung to the point in which she couldn't breath and felt an emotion she hadn't displayed or even touched in quiet some time; exuberance. She stood still, letting them hug her legs and waist and soon realized that Bernard had planned the whole thing.

"We hope you find whatever you have come looking here for" said a tiny one, nuzzling into the folds of her thick over coat. Tegan opened her mouth to say something but found she was at a loss for words. Color grew in her eyes and Tegan managed to let go of the image she had fixed for herself and wrapped her arms around the little elf and snuggled her closer.

She looked over at Bernard who was grinning back at the children. They were warm and smelled like gingerbread and were what happy children at Christmas should look like. They were once what she looked like. A pang of longing over took her and if by magic saw a glimpse of her former self dancing in the little girl's eyes. She smiled.

"Thank you" she said quietly to the little elf who she hugged in her arms. She noticed the elf smile a toothy grin which in turn reminded her of a past self.

But what Tegan hadn't notice was the look on her own face. A smile had cracked over her indifferent expression and her pale lips grew in color to a warm pink.

Bernard smiled. It was a start, if only a tiny one, but still a start.

* * *

AN: Tegan smiling? Le Gasp! And it seems Bernard has finally made a breakthrough in the stubborn Tegan! Yay! Cheers for everyone...Okay, well this was a rather long chapter, but only because I really couldn't split it up...oh well, writing about Bernard amuses me. Okay well review, Merry Christmas and I'm over and out- ox 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with the Santa Clause trademark as well as Santa Clause 2. Any characters not recognized by these organizations are devices of my own imagination.

AN: Exams are coming up so don't expect to many updates between now and the end of January. Perhaps one, but thats all.

* * *

**Tegan Frost: A Protégé's Story**

**Chapter 5**- A Brief History

It was a lie if Tegan told you her childhood had been one of perfection. In fact, it was a lie if she told you that she liked her childhood, because most of the time she didn't. She knew happiness alright, but barely did she know love. Love was unconditional, love was forever and love was from birth. Her parents didn't know her from birth, so therefore it was not real love?

How vague the memories were in her mind, like drifting clouds slowly whisking away into the blue. Bits and pieces here and there, slow moving pictures and silent films; none seemed to form the whole artistic vision. But she knew for a period in her life that she as a child was unloved, and how could someone bear the knowledge that your real parents didn't want you.

When Tegan was five, she met her uncle for the first time. He was a tall gracious man with sharp, handsome features and striking grey eyes. Her mother had commented on how similar their eyes were and she could only blush. That evening, they shared a wonderful dinner with her parents and he told her marvelous stories about freezing artic nights and mysterious figures that marveled men world wide with their astounding powers. He talked as though he had been there and she believed every word of it. And finally, at the end of the night he gave her a package wrapped in brown paper and tied up with string. It would be the first of many. He told her not to open it till the next morning, long after he was gone, and sent her to bed.

But Tegan, so in awe of this man who she endeavored and almost worshipped with a god-like status, couldn't help but creep down the stairs and watch as her parents talked to the man who was now her new best friend.

And through the darkness and through the shadows, Tegan carefully listened and strained her eyes to see and hear what he was saying to her parents. He was talking about a child, a little girl and how she would one day have the powers to stop the Earth. She wondered in great anticipation if once again he was telling another story, this time to her parents. Quietly, she moved a couple more steps down the stairs and gripped the railing for the next few words.

Her father spoke next and talked of how grateful he was to have such a loving brother and how his wife was still unable to give birth. He then said in a joking tone how grateful he was that their parents had adopted him all those years ago and how unhappy his wife and he would be if he had never been brought into their lives.

Then, her mother spoke and asked her uncle if he was making the right decision, if not now, then when would he tell this girl who she really belonged too. Tegan's curiosity only continued to grow as her mother mentioned these words.

Her uncle then grew angry and told her mother that he would tell her when the time was right and he was not a suitable father figure for a girl so young. He lived alone and was often gone for long periods of time and then in a striking tone reminded them that the girl's mother had died giving birth to her. He could not carry this burden alone. Then, her uncle calmed himself and told her father that he expected to see his child at least once a year and once her powers manifested themselves, she would belong to him again.

By this point in time, Tegan was bursting curiosity on who this child was and if anything was a little confused. But she stood her grounds and watched as her uncle said goodbye to her parents, a simple hug to both and grabbed his jacket to leave. But as he was going, he turned and said to her parents:

"Tell my daughter, _no_, tell _Tegan_ that I love her."

And with those few words, he was gone.

The next few years for Tegan were a blur and she barely remembered that fatal night where she learned the truth. Mostly she thought it had been a dream because the next morning she found herself back in bed and not remember how she got there. But whether she thought it had been all a dream or not, either way it was nothing but a bad memory to her now.

Her parents said nothing to her and so life moved on until that one Christmas morning where everything resurfaced and she realized that night so long ago had not been a dream, but real, and now she would pay for her ignorance. So she went with her father, her _real_ father and couldn't help but feel a little bit deceived, for nobody had bothered to tell her the truth.

Over time, she came to realize that her uncle, or her father, as she called him when he wasn't there, was adopted and that his parents had no idea of his extraordinary heritage until he was much older. By secretly flipping through old photo albums she came to know her real mother and a once happier Jack Frost. Of course as years passed and time moved on, he never told her what he promised to do when she was younger; tell her the truth when the time was right.

He was her father, yet she doubted his love and she doubted his trust. She would much rather think of him as her uncle, a cold hearted man twisted by her failure as his niece rather then the fact that she was a failure as his daughter.

And so Tegan's state of mind grew worse until one day she realized not only did she hate Christmas, but her father as well, because he was the reason why that image in her mind was so damaged. Everything surrounding that whole sensitive area was blocked off and a new, less touchable, more sarcastic, hurt and possibly even bleeding Tegan immerged, one with walls thick as ice and hard as rock. But wounds would heal and so could her mentality, but without the proper healing process, could leave a sick and twisted scar.

This was the Tegan that Bernard himself had to deal with. He knew she hurt, her father knew she was hurt, even Santa knew it. But her father couldn't deal with her and Santa was too busy and so the task was left to him and him alone. When we was alone, and only when he was alone, he would admit it was a difficult task.

Fortunately, Bernard had found Tegan just in time before her wounds had healed leaving scars that would last a lifetime. And like a doctor with a skilled knife, he slowly began to reopen the cuts, and this time, stitched them up carefully with hopes they would heal.

It was all that he could do and for now he prayed the stitches would hold.

* * *

AN: Okay, so this chapter is basically a brief update of Tegan with no personal thoughts, but merely a history of her life until she arrived at the North pole. I dunno, I thought it fit pretty well after what had happened...Next chapter will include actual character interaction, which I will enjoy thoroughly when I am writing (Bernard is such a fun character). 


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with the Santa Clause trademark as well as Santa Clause 2. Any characters not recognized by these organizations are devices of my own imagination

AN: Omg, I apologize profusely for such a long gap between this and the last chapter. 9 months was it? I was side-tracked by other projects on and subsequently lost my muse for all things here. But I'm back now, especially after rewatching the Santa Clause movies. Again, I apologize.

* * *

**Tegan Frost: A Protégé's Story**

**Chapter 6-** To Be Loved/To Be Hurt

Tegan awoke to the cold winds and bitter snowflakes that fell from an open window. It was early morning, although the sun was not to be seen. In its place was a strange looking fog that coated the air in thick layers and made it barely visible for one to see a mere footstep to their left or right.

She sat up and saw the window panes thrown open, the ones she swore she had closed the previous night, the curtains moving gently to the breeze and a thin layer of snow settling neatly on dark blue velvet cushion that sat at the sill. The odd looking fog was streaming in along with the snow and she noticed as she walked towards the window that even the normal Christmas carols that rung throughout the air were missing. She looked out upon the window and saw that the workshop and town below her was desolate and deadly still; not an elf, let alone living creature could be seen.

Her eyes flickered and she saw the snow in front of her swirl into spiraling patterns, twisting and turning and slowly forming into a being. Was she dreaming?

"Still as cold as the snow, Tegan? You look absolutely _awful_. Although I must say, since when did your cheeks look ever looked so flushed?" The voice itself was breathy with forced effort, wispy and heaving like the rushing winds surrounding it. As she listened closer, she realized it was her uncle. And she couldn't help but think he was right.

"Nice to see you too," she chided with lax sarcasm. "Now leave." She hadn't meant for it to come so stark, but there was really no other way to say it. The form which was once only an unrecognizable mass of swirling snowflakes slowly grew into full fledged being, stepping upwards onto the sill of her window.

"I said," she replied to his now impartial presence. "Leave. Me. Alone." And with that she slammed the windows shut.

Ignoring him, she began to tidy her room, although she knew in full that it was quite unnecessary. Bernard could easily send an elf to come clean it later. She wasn't half way across the room when she felt the spine tingling chill of her uncle, his presence now clearly in the room, although the windows were still firmly shut. Turning, she faced her uncle, a clear scowl etched across her face.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I couldn't possibly leave without giving you my regards."

"Well I don't want them. Please, leave."

He raised a slight brow before sighing.

"Must we always do this on your birthday, Tegan?" His voice seemed drawn out and almost terse. Tegan on the other hand remained indifferent to this statement and continued on with her routine, slowly making her relatively neat bed.

"I told you, I wish to abstain from celebrating this particular day, Uncle. Now please, if you are done with these silly sentiments-,"

He cut her off mid sentence, an agitated grimace seeping into his voice.

"Not quite. Here."

She took the brown paper package from his extended hand, fondling it for a moment before placing it down on the dresser.

"This was something I promised your father I do quite some time ago…I haven't actually found the meaning for it until now."

Tegan nodded, accepting his brief explanation of her wayward gift. There was an awkward silence between them as if he was almost expecting her to open it. He coughed and finally she looked up at him. She knew this was the best it was going to get.

"Thank you…I suppose." She made the odd movement towards him and they embraced in a stiff hold. The moment ended and made his way back towards the window, flinging open the panes and taking a step up onto the sill.

"Goodbye," he replied stiffly. She nodded and noticed her Uncle pause, his hasty exit stalled by some unknown attribute.

"Tegan?"

"Yes?"

"I…"

Conflict stirred in his weary face. He sighed heavily and looked back, unable to meet her eyes.

"-The package will explain everything."

And with that, he was gone.

For the rest of the early morning, Tegan sat alone, unmoving and poised in velvet green wing-back chair that had sat rarely used in the far corner by her bed. On occasion her eyes traced the contour lines of the package that sat neatly on the edge of the mahogany dresser, but mostly, she thought about this certain day in particular. As for the package, it was almost as if she had a fear of what she was to find inside of it.

She didn't really know why, but Tegan disliked her birthday…almost as most as Christmas itself. Perhaps it was just the very thought that she knew she was going to be alone, or even more so that she had never actually celebrated passed her 10th birthday, but either way it certainly wasn't a day to be happy on.

And still, the lone thought that had perturbed her many long years ago came back to her. And she couldn't help but wonder…

On the day she had been born, her father had given her away. On the day she had been born her father lost a great deal more then he had gained. On the day she had been born, she wondered if she had been loved by anyone at all…

Her fathers wife had died giving birth to her and for that she had always wondered if he had hated her for it. _Did_ he hate her for the loss of his wife? She never really knew. Nor had she ever asked. She couldn't.

Her thoughts turned elsewhere and she slumped off into the chair, sighing heavily.

Her name was Tegan Grace Frost. She was 19 years old, 35 if you considered the actual amount of years she had been present on this planet. She was bitter and cold like the ice that hid beneath her fingertips. She was beautiful. She could command armies with a smile and yet she chose to hide it all behind a mask. She was supposed to be the protégé of Jack Frost; she was supposed to be his double. She was supposed to create winter; she supposed to be a powerful figure of grace. She had expectations, expectations that she had never met and never cared to meet. Her role in the grand scheme of things wasn't what she had wanted. She didn't want to be who she was.

All she really wanted to be was loved.

And silently, without another thought, she began to cry.

And for the first time since she was a child, she felt the tears in full as they rolled down her cheeks and fell softly off her chin.

* * *

By the time Bernard came to awake Tegan, he found a fairly still and unmoving girl sitting quietly by the fireplace, a silent muffled sound coming out of her mouth. Unable to recognize the sound, he slowly crept upon her to realize that she was indeed reading something. A fairly minuet amount of string and brown parcel package littered the floor and he wondered with mounting curiosity of who had sent Tegan a letter. Yet before he could say anything, Tegan spoke.

"Bernard, please leave." Bernard laughed at this statement.

"Your Uncle warned us about this," he said making his way in front of her. "About your adept dislike for your birthday…he was here this morning, actually."

Instantly she hid the paper from his view, crumbling it into her night robes. A stark look was plastered on her face and she viewed Bernard scarcely before returning to the various other objects within her lap. Among them were a few faded photographs and a slowly dissolving snowflake.

"No, Bernard, it's not that. Just _please_, leave." Her eyes drifted off again and she resumed her position, ignoring his unmoving presence.

"Tegan, stop trying to make excuses. I don't care how much you hate your birthday, you're your not staying up here all day holed up in your room. We have plans. Now get up and get dressed.

A fairly mephitic look overcame Tegan's face. Standing to her full height, she turned to face Bernard.

"If you haven't already noticed, Ber_nard_, I _am_ up. But I am not getting dressed. In fact, I don't think I'll be getting dressed all week. I am choosing to stay here, in my room, not because it's my birthday, but because of other, _private_ reasons, of which I do not wish to indulge with you, and most all, I am wishing to do this _alone_. No elves, no Santa Claus, _or_ Scott Calvin, no stupid Christmas carols being sung outside my bedroom every morning, but alone, in seclusion. And if you don't know the meaning of that word, I suggest you go back to school or whatever the hell you elves call your education around here. But just for the reference it means to be separated, apart and isolated from others. Especially _you_. Now leave before I do something I regret."

At first a look of confusion was all that Tegan recognized on Bernard's face. She felt the hate filled words spewing off her tongue and she couldn't help but think how much she sounded like her uncle at the moment. His letter had been right. They were alike. More then she could possibly imagine. In fact, he had finally told her what she had been waiting to hear for 19 long years. That he was her father. But she didn't care. Not one bit. She was tired this. All of this. She just wanted to go. Go anywhere. Anywhere but here.

Silence filtered throughout the air, but she knew it was a short lived spree. Unspoken anger rifted between the two, and yet, Tegan really couldn't give a damn.

"Are you just going to stand there stupidly or are you going to say something?" she finally spat out.

Then, without warning, Bernard spoke.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" His voice was sad, almost hurt by what she had just done.

She was taken back by his question. A fumbled response was all that she could answer.

A line that she thought hadn't existed was quickly approaching.

"Exactly what I thought," he replied when she could say nothing. "You don't know do you? You can't see past the wall you've built around yourself! And for what? An Uncle that you try too hard to impress? An Uncle that you clearly dislike? You go around acting like you don't care, but you do, you do Tegan. And I don't understand it…because here you are now acting like the one man you hate more then all the world and Christmas itself."

Finally, words managed to make their way to Tegan's tongue.

She could feel the line nearing, readying to break.

"Shut. Up."

"Or what? You'll freeze me into a coma like you tried to do to yourself when you were a kid? Really Tegan, get real." He snorted and suppressed more then a giggle.

He was laughing at her and she hated it. She hated how he was acting. Bernard wasn't suppose to be like this. Bernard was supposed to be caring and kind and sweet. Not sarcastic and vindictive. Okay, well maybe a _little_ bit sarcastic, but not this much.

She wondered why he wouldn't stop. She felt the line beginning to break.

"I said, shut-up," she mouthed again, the words seething and threatening to hurt.

Bernard laughed again. It was almost like this was a joke to him. But then, he stopped. An odd look over came his face, one she didn't quite understand. He looked remorseful and almost saddened by what had just occurred. Perhaps he had known better then to provoke her. Perhaps he had expected better. Perhaps he had even been hoping that their semi-friendship was enough to prevent this from ever occurring. But it wasn't and whatever happened did. He sighed loudly before continuing.

"No, Tegan, I won't. Not until you realize what you've done to yourself…I want to help you. More then you and I both know…and I'm sorry. But I can't unless you help yourself first."

The line had been crossed and Tegan struck back.

"I DON'T WANT YOUR HELP!" she suddenly screamed. "I JUST WANT TO GO HOME!"

And with that, an unknown force caused by Tegan blasted Bernard across the room, shattering the vacant window and throwing his feeble body out and down towards the streets below.

Then, there was silence.

She rushed towards the broken window, ignoring the glass that was crunching into her feet and leaned her body out, searching the busy streets below for any sign of him. A dismantled snow bank directly below the sill about 2 stories down lay in ruins, but no sign of the wayward elf was present.

"Oh my god," she whispered to herself. "What have I done?"

And in all truth, she really didn't know.

* * *

AN: Eek. Talking to Tegan after she finally has been told the truth about her uncle? Not such a good idea. Poor Bernard. I felt so asshole writing this. Anyways read and review and I'm over and out- ox


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own anything affliated with the Santa Clause trademark, as well as the Santa Clause 2. Any characters not recognized by these organizations are devices of my own imagination.

AN: Riiight. So another few months fly by. Sorry about that. Lifes been hectic. Hopefully this extra long chapter will make up for it...at least it _seemed_ long when I was writing it.

* * *

**Tegan Frost: A Protege's Story**

**Chapter 7-**The Challenge

"Bernard! Bernard, where are you!" And still, no answer. Her visit to the crumpled snow bank proved to be quite pointless as it was obvious that he had been gone the moment he fell out her window. Spinning around, she began to rush through the cobblestone streets, pushing aside the crowds of busy elves. None of them looked like Bernard. None of them were as tall as Bernard either. She held back an ethereal smile before sighing again, a wave of guilt overtaking her. She had to find him. To do what, she wasn't all that sure. Say sorry? Sorry wasn't exactly enough when you had just blasted someone out a second story window.

"Excuse me, yes you. Can you tell me if you've seen Bernard? Yes, he's about my height, no taller…wears a black beret." Her voice was desperate and pleading, something most out of place for Tegan. The elf shook his tiny little head fiercely before walking away with a quickened pace. By the looks of things, he probably thought she was crazy. Thinking about it, she realized how absurd she must look. No doubt the elf was scared of her… Barely dressed, wearing nothing but her pajamas and a messy night-robe; she hadn't even bothered to put on shoes when she run from her room. Of course no one was going to take her seriously!

"Excuse me!" she asked another passing elf. "Can you tell me if you've seen Bernard?" The elf looked at her for a moment before piecing together a slow reply.

"Bernard, you mean Arch-elf Bernard?"

"Yes! You've seen him?!"

"Sorry Miss, but no, I haven't."

"How can you have not seen him!" she almost yelled at the tiny elf. "I just blasted him out a window for Christmas's sake!" Had she just said Christmas? She shook her head and waited impatiently for an answer. A small "oh" was the only thing that came from the elf's pink lips before he shook his head again and rushed off.

She almost let out a cry. The feeling inside of her was worse then anything she had ever experienced.

"Bernard!" she cried out again. "Where are you?!"

Once again, she found herself with no reply.

After another hour of fruitless searching, Tegan returned to her room and sat in solitude, unable to think of anything else to do. Nobody, and she meant _nobody,_ had seen Bernard or where he had went. What was she suppose to do? Proclaim to everyone that she had killed Bernard! Was that what he wanted her do, so that he could forgive her and pop back up out of nowhere? A jaded appearance overtook her and she thought bitterly about the aftermath of the situation.

It was her 19th birthday, and her Uncle had finally admitted about 10 years too late that he was her father. And instead of contacting her Uncle and throwing herself into an embittered rage that he so justly deserved, she had taken her anger out on Bernard and blasted him out a window. And now he was missing. What a wonderful day this had turned out to be. Really fantastic.

She sobered for a moment and stared at the window across the room. Since when had she cared so much to what happens to anyone but herself? Life had taught her stop your own bleeding before you stop others. And so why was she so concerned about this elf? She pursed her lips and a thought with mixed reactions surfaced. She shifted her eyes down into her lap and tugged at the string on her robe. Perhaps it was because she actually _liked _Bernard, as much as it pained her to admit it. Unfortunately, the glass and tiny shards of wood littering the red carpet told another story.

And that's when she saw it; the brightly color package among the glass and wood, covered by the snow that was still falling directing in through the broken window. Curiously, she arose from her chair and picked it up, careful not to damage it more then she already had.

Still standing, she gently tore back the paper and gasped. Inside was a doll, worn and used, but still beautiful and almost identical to the one she had when she was kid. However, whoever had left the doll had known was beyond her knowledge, but it still didn't make up for the fact that this doll had been part of some of her happiest memories possible. Flipping the doll over, she lifted up the skirt and found the tag, and written in scraggily black ink was _"Tegan." _Dropping the wrapping paper, she failed to notice the tiny note inside, the one that simply stated "_Smile."_ And if Bernard had been there, he would've have seen his request come true, because for the second time in week Tegan was indeed doing so; smiling.

* * *

"I've done something horrible," Tegan simply stated. 

Santa Claus, or should she say Scott Calvin, temporarily removed his wistful eyes from the handful of letters he was currently reading, indicting he was listening, before returning his attention back to the papers and said:

"Do explain."

She could see beneath the frivolous white beard he sported that there was a smile playing softly against his lips. She wondered if he had any idea of what she had done.

"I…I think I killed Bernard," she muttered, the words barely, just _barely _rolling off her tongue.

"Killed, no," Scott replied, his eyes still on the letters splayed across his desk. "Injured, yes."

He began to hum a particularly annoying Christmas tune, chuckling slightly as he shuffled to another letter, occasionally singing out _"Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la!"_

She chose to ignore his misplaced singing. Now was definitely not at time to be singing Christmas carols.

"So you know?" she asked, wincing slightly.

"Of course," he replied, still preoccupied with his letters. His eyes had barely wavered from the surface of this desk.

"But-, but!"

Scott let out another chorus of _"Deck the Halls"_ and adjusted his spectacles.

Tegan was in a state of disbelief. Here she was admitting she had just attacked Santa's Head-elf, injuring him in the process, and Scott was doing nothing but reading his stupid children's letters and singing annoying Christmas carols.

"_Hello!"_ she cried. "I just blasted Bernard from a second story window! Don't you care?!"

"Oh yes," replied Scott, with a cool demeanor. "I care very much so…and if it wasn't for Bernard, I would have kicked you out from the North Pole and sent you back to your Uncle the moment you laid a finger on him."

"Well, technically I didn't touch him…" Tegan said quietly, quite ashamed of her actions.

He ignored her last comment, and shuffled the pile of papers in his hands.

"You've been naughty, Tegan. Very naughty indeed. In fact, the only thing that's keeping you here right now is the very elf you attacked," he said, still keeping his jolly-demeanor.

It was surprising how calm he was attacking despite the current situation. But Tegan could see beneath his blue bespectacled eyes there was a hint of anger, make that a large amount of it, harbored beneath his expected façade of being Santa Clause. Before becoming the pintacle of that that is good, he was once only a normal human-being too.

"It was an accident," she mumbled, lowering her eyes to the floor. The grainy surfaces of the wood floors were suddenly far too interesting for her own good…

She wasn't sure if he had heard her at all, as he buried himself into another letter, laughing silently at the content.

A few uncomfortable moments went by before Tegan spoke again.

"Where is he? Bernard, I mean."

"Bernard?" he asked raising his head again.

"Yes."

"That, I cannot say," he said simply, and turned his attention back to his letters.

Tegan could feel anger whelming up inside of her, the sudden urge to blast the man in front of her with a torrent sprial of ice presenting itself.

"Is that because you choose not to tell me, or because you really don't know?" she managed to asked, contempt spiting from every word. Her nasty temper was presenting itself again, as she narrowed her azure eyes into deadly slits.

"Because Bernard chooses to devoid of you his whereabouts," he stated simply.

She frowned.

"Placing you with Bernard was a difficult decision," Scott suddenly mused absentmindedly, his eyes still on the letters. "He's a very busy elf you know…and to place you in his chagrin at this time of the year...I see now, was sadly a mistake."

"What's _that_ suppose to mean?"

He ignored her conflicted question and continued on.

"He's been ignoring his other duties…I thought the time alone he spent with you would deter him from his usual work-centric habits, and it did. All too much. He knew when I asked him to do this that he had other responsibilities to tend to…"

"Where is he?" she asked, her voice rising in anger again.

"And now you've thrown Bernard _completely _off focus…I'm simply at a loss."

"Where's Bernard!?" she asked again, attempting to ignore his soloist monologue. "I don't understand what you're saying…I just want to know where he is!"

Scott chuckled lightly, and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I already told you, Tegan. Bernard has disclosed with me that he does not want to see you at this point time."

By now Tegan was angry. She was getting nowhere with this insipid conversation and Scott seemed to be spewing out nothing but nonsensical ramblings about Bernard's work habits. Her frustration was felt by the cooling of her finger tips, a rigid appearance rushing to her already flushed face.

"I don't _care _what Bernard wants," she said through gritted teeth and clenched fists. All sense of civility was retreating along with her fading reddish cheeks, all to be replaced with a peaked pale color with hints of translucent purple and blue. Her hardened exterior, the one the weathered the brute of the storms between her and her "Uncle" was returning. "I need to see him _now_ so I can apologize. And you, _Santa_, are the only man sanding in the way of it."

She would not be intimidated, or even fooled by a man wearing a silly red jumpsuit covered in white fur.

For the first time in their whole meeting, Scott looked up from his desk and stared Tegan in the eye. It was rather unsettling and she could see two of three emotions swirling within them. Anger and pity. The third she was quite unsure of.

"Bernard cares deeply about you, Tegan, and for what reasons, I do not see," he said softly. "And at this very moment, despite what you did, I'm sure you will still find him tomorrow morning, as usual, perched upon the foot of your bed, waiting for you to wake up…give it time Tegan. Give Bernard time."

Unsure of how to react to his sudden soft-spoken words, Tegan merely nodded meekly and took her turn of leave, all anger suddenly being replaced with guilt again.

"Goodbye, Tegan," Scott said, as she left the room. "I hope you find what your looking for."

* * *

But the next morning, Tegan did not find Bernard perched upon his usual spot on the foot of her bed. 

She did not find him in the hallway, waiting outside her door either.

He wasn't in the kitchens, and he wasn't at sheds that housed Santa's sled.

For a while, she wandered through the crowed work areas of the assembly lines in hopes that he might be watching over the production, but alas, he was nowhere to be found.

Finally, she returned to the one place that knew exactly where Bernard was hiding. At least, she hoped…

"He didn't show up this morning," Tegan said softly, entering Santa's office.

Scott looked up and gave her a perplexed look.

"You said he'd be there."

It was odd how worried she was, worried enough that even Santa noticed.

"I did, didn't I?" The words played softly against his bearded face, as if he was amused by the statement.

"Where is he?" she asked one final time. "I don't care that he doesn't want to see me…but I've done a terrible thing and I must make things right."

Scott laughed again, his eyes twinkling with the same essence it had held the first time she met him.

"What?" she asked, mildly annoyed. "What's so funny?"

"The great and cold Tegan Frost," he laughed, murmuring her name through well-worn lips. _"Caring."_

She growled, something quite un-Tegan like to do, and stormed out from the room, obviously displeased with the result of their conversation.

* * *

Tegan's mood had taken her from the reaches of Santa's workshop. She had wandered for what seemed like hour, meandering pointlessly around the town and finally out past into the snowy forests. 

It had surprised her at first that the North Pole even had a forest, but then again, this _was _the North Pole. The notion that a full fledged pine-wood forest had sprouted up beneath the safety of the pole seemed insane to her...it was far too cold to grow flora, especially in the icy conditions the North Pole presented itself with. Of course most of that was to do with her "Uncle", so she supposed the area was large grey spot. He could easily ease off on the cold in order to allow foliage to spring up. Then Mother Nature could do her magic…and _voila_: your very own precious pine forest at the North Pole. Thinking about it, she supposed pine trees were quite necessary to the North Pole and that this particular plot of land was probably used to harvest the trees in order to deliver them to those houses _without_ a Christmas tree. _Great._ Even the forest was infected with Santa's do-gooding magic.

In agitation, she sat herself precariously down onto a fallen log, surprisingly not rotten due to the cold. In all truth, she really had no clue as to where she was. The only thing leading her home was the wandering footsteps that had trailed closely behind her as she had walked further and further away from the workshops.

From her pocket she pulled out the old doll and petted the ragged brown locks of hair with cool fingers. Subconsciously, she knew her fingers were causing further damage to the already deteriorating doll, but at the moment, she really didn't care. Within the past few weeks her, it seemed she had gained greater control over her powers, then, lost it again. Now was one of those moments in which she barely had control over the fingers that were normally pulled stiffly into her billowing coat sleeves.

"It's a pretty doll," a voice from behind her stated.

She gasped.

The doll fell to the snow blanketed forest floor beneath her as she jumped up and turned around.

Her face fell.

What she thought had been Bernard wasn't. Perhaps she was hearing things…

Turning around again, she came face to face with said elf and stumbled back with surprise, almost falling over the log if it hadn't been for a brown gloved hand that grabbed her. In other hand, the one folded stiffly against his chest, was the doll she had dropped, his own ringed fingers playing with the loose tendrils of hair.

"What's her name?" he asked, grinning slightly, his eyes focused on the doll below.

"Myriad," she mouthed wordlessly, unsure of what else to say. She had no idea where that name had come from. She hadn't used the name of her doll since she was, well, a kid.

In front of her, after two days of stark disappearance, was Bernard. Bernard who she had blasted through a window and spent the last 36 hours of her life searching fruitlessly for without result. Bernard who was currently wearing a white cloth shoulder sling.

She winced.

"Your arm," she said quietly, taking another step back.

After all this time, after all this searching, it had come to this. Her shying away, ashamed of her actions, and too scared to say the words she desperately need hear come out from her dry, open, mouth.

He handed the doll back to her with his good arm and smiled again. She took the doll back with quick movement and lowered her eyes again. This was harder then she thought it would be...

"Bernard," she said quietly. "I'm…" Why couldn't she bring herself to say it? She sighed and started over.

"Bernard...I'm-, I'm sorry for what I did yesterday…I was angry and I never meant to take that anger out on you…"

He said nothing, merely placing an arm on her shoulder, a somber look over taking his face.

"I know," he finally said. She looked up at him and smiled momentarily, before returning to her depraved self.

"Really," she said again, looking back at him. "I'm _sorry_."

"Santa's been telling me _all_ about it, Tegan. Trust me, I know." He laughed slightly before taking his hand from her shoulder, letting it fall uselessly at his side again.

For a moment, she felt betrayed and then angry again, but couldn't hold Bernard to it...Her thoughts drifted. So Santa _had _known where Bernard was and had probably been telling him _everything _she had done within the past few days. But Bernard had asked Scott not to tell him where he was, and she had to respect that decision…even if it did make her considerably frustrated. Damn him. She back down on the log and played absentmindedly with the doll again.

"Santa contacted your Uncle," Bernard said thoughtfully, watching her with intent eyes. "He wanted you sent home."

"I know…" she murmured softly, her eyes tracing the snow laced ground again. "And thank-you."

"Your Uncle seemed pretty upset,-"

"Actually," she interrupted, a venomous looking overtaking her calm exterior. "He's not my Uncle…"

Bernard seemed confused for a second, question flashing across his composed, mischievous face before responding with a simple "Oh?" and sat down next to her. She figured he thought this would take some time to explain. And it would.

"He's my father," she begun slowly. "My _biological_ father."

She looked away, as if ashamed by this sudden spoken words of this revelation. Never before had she admitted to anyone that Jack was her father. Not aloud that was. Her eyes clouded over and she clenched her fist, ice forming on the tips of her fingers.

And so began the long and entwined story of Tegan's real family history, the one her "Uncle" failed to produce to Santa when he had claimed Tegan needed help, small _"Oh's,"_ and slight _"Hmms,"_ being produced all the right time.

When she was done, Bernard said nothing, and stared thoughtfully out into the forest, his brown curls of hair obscuring his eyes from her view.

"I don't want your pity," Tegan finally said, unsure of how he was to react. Her voice came out cold, colder then intended. "I just want…" She paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. What _did_ she want? And looking over at Bernard, in a spilt second, she knew. "I want your forgiveness." She finished softly, her fingers tracing the thin cotton material that held Bernard's arm in a sling. "I'll do anything," she finally concluded. "Anything as to erase the events from yesterday."

Once again, Bernard was silent. Perhaps she had made a mistake...

"Anything?" Bernard finally asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his childish lips.

Tegan hesitated for a moment, quite sure that Bernard was about to make her do something quite evil and unpleasant. Like sing that insipid Christmas carol Santa had been singing a day earlier to the whole elf population at the North Pole.

Surprisingly, the thought made her grin.

"Anything," she finally said, her eyes locking into Bernard's. He grinned and pulled her up off the log, and the headed back towards the pole.

And so the challenge had been accepted.

* * *

AN: Ooo-la-la! What may this challenge be? Find out in the next chapter. Read and Review and I'm over and out- ox 


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